


Let Me Worship at Your Shrine

by xBlackxRosexRebellionx



Series: Coping with Kopus [1]
Category: The Red Road (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Momoa - Freeform, Mentions of past abuse, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Single Mothers Need Love Too, This One's for You Talia, lots of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xBlackxRosexRebellionx/pseuds/xBlackxRosexRebellionx
Summary: Talia Rivera is a single mother, working as the in-home nurse for Phillip Kopus's mother during her recovery from cancer. When Talia winds up in a sticky situation and has no one else to call, she reaches out to Phillip, who comes to her rescue. Despite his tough exterior, she knows that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to Kopus. And he exposes that softer side of himself to her in the most surprising way.Trigger warnings for those that have been in an abusive relationship, whether it be physical, emotional, or psychological. There are mentions of past abuse in this story but not much detail is given. Just wanted to give you a fair warning.
Relationships: Phillip Kopus/Original Female Character
Series: Coping with Kopus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877269
Kudos: 1





	Let Me Worship at Your Shrine

_So, this is a bit different from what I’m used to writing. This one is a much more impactful story, in my opinion. I wrote this one for a friend that is very near and dear to me and, though she hasn’t gone through what this story details, some people out there have. I’m used to writing very strong and independent female characters and Talia’s character in this story is certainly that. This story is a very hurt/comfort/touchy/feely kind of thing, so consider yourself warned. There will be several triggers for those of you readers who have been in physically or mentally abusive situations in the past. So PLEASE proceed with caution, if you do choose to read this story._

_I’ve been wanting to write a piece about Phillip Kopus for quite a while now and this is finally my first go at it. I know that he’s not as hard and unforgiving in this one-shot as he’s often portrayed in the TV show, but we get little glimpses of a softer side of him, a more compassionate side of him, here and there throughout the show and I think that, if Phillip found a woman that he truly cared about, these are things that he would feel and think about her. I think, in a lot of ways, Talia and Phillip are perfect for each other, both having been through a rough upbringing and some pretty trying circumstances to get where they are now. But both are in a better place now and are able to fully appreciate the fact that this person – THEIR person – is the only one that is there for them when they really need someone._

_And I think it’s safe to say that I’m not done writing about these two characters yet. While I don’t know if I’ll pursue a full-length story about them, there will certainly be more one-shots written about them in the future. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_And thanks again, Talia, for all that you do!_

**_Let Me Worship at Your Shrine_ **

Phillip Kopus’s cell phone started to ring, prompting him to reach back into the back pocket of his grease-stained, well-worn jeans to pull out a shop rag. He wiped his hands before reaching into his opposite back pocket to slide his cell phone out.

He saw Talia’s name flashing across the screen and his dark brows furrowed. Why would his mother’s nurse be calling him at work?

He was quick to answer, hoping that nothing had happened to his mother, who was currently refusing to take chemo treatments for her cancer and, what was worse, she was refusing to take the pills he’d tried to give her to help ease her pain.

“Kope?” she asked when she heard him pick up.

She never called him by his first name, insisting that he “didn’t look like a Phillip” and, instead, referring to him as “Kopus” or, sometimes, just “Kope”. Hell, her son even called him Kope.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“I’m sorry to bother you at work,” she started, quick to apologize for inconveniencing him.

He heard a sniffle and his shoulders bristled a bit.

“Shit,” he cursed, “Are you crying?”

“No,” she replied before her voice became muffled as she murmured quietly, “Shh, baby. It’s all right. It’s okay.”

“You’re a _terrible_ liar, Tal,” he accused, “What’s going on? Is mom all right?”

“Yeah,” she sobbed, unable to keep up the tough front anymore, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know who else to call!”

He heard her sobbing then and something inside of him clenched tight, his whole chest seizing. It felt like someone had just reached inside of him and grabbed his heart in a vice like grip, knocking the air right out of him.

In the seven months that this woman had worked as his mother’s nurse, not _once_ had he seen her cry. She was always so calm, so strong, so brave, despite the fact that she was a single mother who had bolted from an abusive ex-husband.

“Tal,” Phillip told her, “Calm down, sweetheart. Take a breath.”

He paused a bit, trying to listen to make sure that she had followed his instructions.

“Good girl,” he praised when he heard her do as she was asked, “Good girl. Now talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. Is mom okay?”

“Yes,” she replied, sniffling quietly, though she seemed to be much more in control of her emotions now, “Yes, she’s fine. I’m sorry if I worried you. I just… I ran out to get her some things. I didn’t even know it was her birthday today until Junior let it slip this morning on his way out the door for school. And I was halfway back to her house when the damn windshield wipers quit working –,”

“You went out in this fucking storm?!” he asked incredulously.

Leave it to Talia Rivera to go out in a near monsoon to go get his mother presents for her birthday. But that was Talia, always looking out for others, always doing for everyone else and refusing to put her own needs before anyone else’s.

“Yes,” she practically sobbed and the guilt gnawed at him, “I just… I felt so bad! I didn’t even know it was her birthday, Kope!”

“Talia…” he sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he felt a headache starting to set in.

“I know! I know!” she cried, “I’m sorry! I should be there with her now! But I thought I’d only be gone a minute, and then the rain got worse and the windshield wipers quit. I’ve gotten out twice already to try to fix them, but they just won’t cooperate, and no one’s stopped to even ask if we were okay –,”

“Hey,” he interrupted her, “Breathe. Breathe for me, Tal. Listen, where are you?”

“We’re pulled off on the side of the road. I can’t tell where,” she explained, “I couldn’t see, Kopus. I just… I couldn’t see. I couldn’t even see to stay between the yellow line and the white line anymore. It was just raining so hard, and –,”

“All right, but you’re somewhere between the store and mom’s place?” he inquired.

“Yes,” she answered.

“I’m coming to get you. Don’t move,” he told her.

“But I can’t just stay here,” she said, “Phillip, no one’s slowing down or bothering to move over. We’ve almost gotten hit _twice_ already. If I can just get to the next driveway, maybe I can pull in –,”

“Talia,” he growled, “Stay put.”

“But –,” she started to protest.

“I mean it,” he instructed, “You pull over a little further if you have to, but you _stay put._ You understand me?”

“Okay,” she replied, her voice just barely above a whisper.

She sniffled and then added, just as quietly, “And Phillip?”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Thank you,” she told him.

Talia put her Acadia in drive and slowly, carefully, navigated the SUV further off of the road and onto the shoulder. She found her hazard lights and turned them on, hoping it would help Kopus find her easier in this torrential downpour.

Despite the fact that she had spent the past seven months there in New Jersey, she _still_ wasn’t used to the weather on the East Coast. Rain was a _whole_ different experience out there than it had been back in California. It didn’t come in nice, easy little showers. Instead, it was as if the very heavens opened up and it all poured down at once. And when the storm moved from the sea onto the mainland or came down from the north, you knew you were _really_ in for it.

Sighing, she reached down to unfasten her seatbelt and climbed over the console to get to the backseat so that she could check on her son, who was finally starting to fuss after remaining so calm and quiet through the whole ordeal.

“I know, baby,” she murmured quietly as she folded herself into the middle seat beside him, “I know. But help’s on the way. I promise.”

Tuco reached up with one small hand to press it to her cheek, which was still wet with tears. Talia sniffed, reaching up to wipe the moisture from her eyes, and forced a big smile, which her son mirrored with one of his own.

The boy had been through hell and back, but you’d never know it. He was more resilient than any kid she’d ever met. You wouldn’t even _begin_ to imagine the shit show that his life had been up to this point – or, well, seven months ago to be exact.

For the past seven months, Talia had been working for Marie Kopus, serving as her in-home nurse. While Marie had initially refused the hired help, Phillip had insisted on it, making it _quite_ clear to Talia that his mother was suffering from cancer and was refusing to take any chemo therapy or even any form of medication for it. Talia had worked from 7:00 in the morning until 7:00 in the evening, Mondays through Fridays. She had served Marie her meals, helped her tend to her daily chores around the house, attended any outing she might have wanted to go to, and even bought her groceries for her on the days that she wasn’t feeling up to it. She had spent hours listening to Marie talk about her two sons, about how proud of Junior she was and how much she worried about Phillip, despite his tough exterior.

Talia had learned more from that woman than she had from anyone else in her life. She’d learned a _whole_ new meaning of strength, courage, determination, and resilience. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. And, from her, Talia had learned a whole new outlook on life. She no longer looked at herself as a victim of her ex-husband’s brutality but, rather, a survivor. She was still lucky, compared to some, because now, she was making a new life for her and her son.

So, as she sat there in that car, with the heat blowing out of the registers and Daughtry’s “I’ll Fight” playing from the speakers, she felt a real smile start to spread across her face.

She was all right. Her son was okay. They were safe. And help was on the way.

Phillip couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when Talia’s pearl white Acadia finally came into view. He pulled over behind the SUV, taking a deep breath before he threw the door open and stepped out into the pouring rain. He was soaked through in an instant, the frigid, unforgiving Jersey rain pelting down on him as he made his way over to the driver’s side of the car, only to find that Talia wasn’t there.

His heart stopped, his brain kicking into overdrive as he jerked his head up, squinting through the rain as he searched frantically for any sign of her or her eighteen-month-old son.

 _“Talia!”_ he bellowed into the rain, cupping his hands around his mouth to make the sound even louder.

It was then that he heard it, the sound of the back door of her car being pushed open.

“We’re in here,” she said quietly, peeking out at him with a sheepish smile on her face as she nodded in the direction of a sleeping Tuco, who was passed out in his car seat, apparently having had enough excitement for one afternoon.

“Christ, woman!” Phillip grumbled, “Give me a fucking heart attack.”

“Sorry…” she apologized, her dark eyes darting down to her lap.

Phillip took one look at her windshield wipers, seeing that one was hanging completely off of the windshield and the other was bent at a strange angle. Realizing just how fucked they were, he decided to hell with it. He’d fix them tomorrow.

“Come on,” he said, jerking his head towards his truck, “Let’s get you guys home.”

“But the car –,” she started.

“We’ll come pick it up when it stops raining. I’ll follow you back, make sure you get there safe,” he assured her.

Talia nodded, climbing out around Tuco’s car seat before she reached down to press the button to release his car seat from the base.

She started to heft the car seat onto her arm, but Phillip shook his head, reaching out to grab the handle and telling her, “I’ve got it. Grab what you need and meet me in the truck.”

Phillip started towards the truck, reaching down to pull the rain cover down over the sleeping baby and making his way through the rain towards the passenger side door. He tugged the door open, setting the car seat onto the passenger seat of the truck, and reached for the seat belt, tugging it down towards the car seat, only to realize that he had no fucking idea how to belt the kid in properly.

“Well fuck,” he cursed.

Talia came up behind him, nudging him gently and insisting, “Let me do it.”

He moved, letting her fasten the car seat in as he walked around the front of the truck to the driver’s side door. He climbed behind the wheel, tugging the door shut behind him, and Talia squeezed her way around Tuco’s car seat to take her place between her son and Phillip.

“Thank you, Phillip,” she said, “I really don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Phillip told her, reaching out to crank the heat up in the truck, “Like… _ever.”_

Talia giggled at that and Phillip couldn’t help the way his lips twitched as he fought back a smile of his own. The woman’s laughter was infectious.

“Here,” Phillip instructed, lifting one arm and giving a jerk of his head once he’d pulled back out onto the road, “Can’t have you freezing to death. Who’d take care of my mom then?”

Talia hesitated, glancing at first his face and then the space between them that he was offering up, almost as if she was trying to read him. Finally, just when he thought she was going to refuse the offer, she slowly slid over to his side of the truck, snuggling into his side. Phillip draped his arm around her shoulders, his large frame dwarfing her much smaller one, and he couldn’t miss the way that she shivered, her small body trembling against his.

“My place is closer,” he informed her, “We need to get you inside and get you warmed up. Get you a nice, hot shower. My place might not be the ritz, but it’s got running water and a hot shower. You can grab some fresh clothes while we wait for yours to dry.”

Talia nodded, turning slightly to rest the side of her head against his firm chest.

When they arrived at Phillip’s trailer, Phillip glanced down to find that Talia was asleep, her long, dark lashes framing her cheeks and her full lips parted slightly as she breathed. He’d never seen her like he’d seen her today, so hopeless, so vulnerable. He never wanted to see her like that again. But he knew that he couldn’t dick around. The longer he waited, the harder she shivered, even in her sleep.

He nudged her gently, his deep voice breaking through the silence as he cut the engine.

“Talia,” he prompted, nudging her once more, “Tal, we’re here, sweetheart.”

“Hmm…?” she asked, her head coming up off of his chest even as she started to blink her weary eyes.

She reached up with one hand to rub at her eyes and Phillip told her, “We’re here. Let’s get you two inside. Get you warmed up.”

“But your mom,” she stared, “It’s her birthday and –,”

“Mom can wait,” he insisted, “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

She peered up at him, her dark eyes searching his.

But he wouldn’t meet her gaze. He knew that those chocolate doe eyes would break him. He knew how much this woman meant to his mother, how much she had done not only for his mother but also for _him_ over the past seven months. Hell, somedays, she was the only thing keeping his family together. She had tended to his sick mother, nursed her back to health, gotten her groceries when she wasn’t well enough to do it herself, fixed her meals, and spent _countless_ hours listening to her prattle on about how she worried about her sons. She had tended to Phillip’s wounds more times than he could count – even when he was trying to hide them from his own mother – and she had kept his illegal activities a secret as well, despite her blatant distaste for his criminal tendencies, until he was finally able to start flying straight. She had turned the small trailer that had once served as his own personal bachelor pad into a home, something that was both warm and welcoming now, despite the fact that they had originally gotten off on the wrong foot since his mother had conveniently forgotten to mention the fact that Talia and her son, Tuco, would be staying there at Phillip’s place while she worked for his mother since she had nowhere else to go and his mother’s house wasn’t big enough for them and Junior too.

During the past seven months, Phillip had seen just how much the single mother had given, not only for his mother, but also for him and her son. He had seen just how much she had sacrificed to provide a life for her son, to ensure that he had it better than she had. If there ever was an angel, Phillip could have sworn that Talia Rivera was one. She had been a godsend, remaining a dependable and steadfast presence in their lives since she had walked into them. And he knew in that moment that he would do anything for her.

“Come on,” he prompted, jerking his head towards the trailer as he slid out of the driver’s seat, unable to take those dark, doe eyes peering up at him so openly anymore.

Talia slid over to the passenger seat of the truck and unfastened the seatbelt that was holding Tuco’s car seat in place, starting to slide the car seat across the seat of the truck when Phillip opened the passenger side door.

“I’ve got him,” he told her in that gruff voice, “You just go in and find some warm clothes. You know where the shower’s at. Help yourself. We don’t need you getting sick or my mom will kill us both.”

She laughed at that, nodding in agreement, but asked, “Are you sure? I can –,”

“I’ve got it,” he assured her, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument, “I’m just gonna take him in, get him out of this contraption, and lay him down in his crib. Poor kid’s cashed out.”

Talia smiled at that, nodding her consent, and finally agreed, “Okay. Just… Let me know if you need help.”

“I think I can manage,” he countered, “He’s only 16 pounds, the little runt.”

And it was true. Tuco had been born 9 weeks early, due to complications triggered by the high-stress environment they were living in at the time. It was a miracle that he had even survived after being delivered via emergency c-section, considering the fact that they had only given him a 20% chance of surviving. But the boy was a walking, squawking testament of survival at its finest. And Talia couldn’t have been more grateful for that.

Talia slid out of the truck, tugging the keys out of the ignition and heading for the steps that would lead her up to the door. She unlocked the door and slipped inside, turning to head down the hall to Phillip’s room, which he had given up for her, despite her adamant protests. He had even converted the only other bedroom in the trailer into Tuco’s nursery, leaving Phillip to sleep on the small couch out in the living room, which Talia hadn’t thought was fair at all.

Shaking her head, Talia made her way down the hall and into Phillip’s old bedroom, starting over towards the dresser that he had brought home for her a couple months ago to find some nice, warm clothes to pull on.

Phillip carried the sleeping baby into the trailer, kicking the door shut gently behind him. He made his way down the hall towards Tuco’s room and set the car seat down in the rocking chair there in the corner of the room. He bent to study the buckle on the boy’s car seat, his brows furrowing in concentration as he reached out towards the buckle, then hesitated, his dark eyes roaming over all the fastens as he tried to figure out how to undo them. Finally, he reached out and pressed the button in the center, but nothing happened.

After several failed attempts and countless grumbled curses, Phillip _finally_ managed to get the buckle completely unfastened, all five stupid, annoying parts of it, but not without waking the baby up. Tuco peered up at him with those hazel eyes, tilting his head to one side and blinking up at him with his little eyebrows wrinkled up.

“Listen, kid,” Phillip told him, “I don’t do this shit, like _ever,_ so you’re just gonna have to bear with me.”

Hearing his deep baritone rumbling, Tuco grinned up at him, offering him a glimpse at the five little teeth that were currently trying to come in – some half grown and others just starting to break through his gums. Phillip felt his own lips twitch as he fought a smile, but he reached down to gently ease the boy’s arms out from the straps of the car seat and lifted him up into the air.

Phillip carried him over to the changing table, intending to see if the kid needed a change of clothes, and the boy blinked up at him, waiting. Phillip grabbed the front of Tuco’s batman pants and tugged them down, thankful that Talia had actually put the kid in a shirt and pants that day instead of some complicated one-piece deal.

Once the baby was stripped down to nothing but a diaper, Tuco reached down to pat the front of his wet diaper, squawking up at Phillip.

“Oh no,” Phillip said, shaking his head hard, “No way. Phillip Kopus does _not_ do diaper duty.”

The baby tilted his head, studying Phillip for a moment, and Phillip sighed.

Time to suck it up, buttercup.

“All right,” Phillip sighed, “But _just_ this once, okay?”

Tuco grinned up at him and Phillip took that as a sign of agreement.

“Okay…” Phillip said, “Let’s see here…”

Phillip grabbed one of the diapers that Talia had sitting on the changing table next to the container of wipes and started to unfold it.

“Does this thing even tell you which way is the front and which way is the back?” Phillip asked, glancing down at the baby, “Do you know how these things work?”

The baby just grinned up at him.

“Of course, you don’t,” he answered his own question.

With a sigh, Phillip studied the diaper for a moment, turning it this way and that. Finally, he decided that the flaps had to attach to the front to hold the diaper up on Tuco’s hips. So, having deduced that, he laid the clean, unfolded diaper out on the container of wipes and reached down to unfasten the flaps from the front of Tuco’s wet diaper.

“Don’t you _dare_ pee on me, kid,” he instructed, narrowing his eyes at the boy, who was now giggling up at him.

Once the wet diaper was off, he quickly disposed of it into the diaper genie beside the changing table, then he lifted the baby by his ankles, slid the new diaper under his little butt, and laid Tuco back down so that he could fasten the flaps to the front of the diaper, holding it in place.

Phillip couldn’t help but smile in triumph as he surveyed his work. But, seeing that the baby was still naked, other than the fresh diaper, he turned his gaze to the basket of clean laundry that Talia had set beside the changing table that morning. He reached inside, pulling out a little shirt with the cookie monster on the front and found a pair of matching, blue pants to go with them.

Once the baby was dressed, Phillip carried him over to his crib and laid him down, handing him a passie for each hand and cramming the passie that was attached to a little monkey into his mouth.

“All right,” Phillip announced, “You’ve got nice, warm clothes on and a fresh diaper. Time for a nap, kid.”

Tuco curled up onto his side, gripping his passies tight, and closed his eyes as Phillip reached out to turn his little crib-side music maker on. Then Phillip stepped out of the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind him, and made his way down the hall to check on Talia and see if she needed anything.

Halfway down the hall, he realized his first mistake. Talia had left the bedroom door wide open, a trail of wet clothes leading towards the bathroom there in his bedroom, which he _also_ noticed was left wide open, and he was forced to make a choice. Did he turn around now and make his way back to the living room to wait for her there? Or did he risk stepping into his bedroom, just long enough to holler in to her and ask her if she needed anything? And then there was the matter of his own wet clothes.

While Phillip Kopus had _always_ had good intentions, he’d never really been known for making wise decisions. And now, faced with the temptation of a _very_ naked and _very_ pretty – and _very_ sassy – little Puerto Rican, who was currently occupying his shower, Phillip knew what he _should_ do. But he also knew, even as his legs continued to carry him down that hall, that what he _should_ do and what he was _going_ to do were two _very_ different things.

The second he stepped into his bedroom, he heard it, the soft, sweet voice of her singing to herself in the shower. He could barely hear it over the spray of the shower, but it was there. And, as he started across the bedroom, kicking his boots off and tugging his shirt up over his head on the way, her sweet voice grew louder and he was able to make out the words.

_My lover’s got humor_

_She’s the giggle at a funeral_

_Knows everybody’s disapproval_

_I should’ve worshipped her sooner_

_If the heavens ever did speak_

_She’s the last true mouthpiece_

_Every Sunday’s getting more bleak_

_A fresh poison each week_

_“We were born sick”_

_You heard them say it_

_My church offers no absolutes_

_She tells me worship in the bedroom_

_The only heaven I’ll be sent to_

_Is when I’m alone with you_

_I was born sick but I love it_

_Command to be well_

_Aaaa-men_

_Amen_

_Amen_

Reaching down, Phillip unfastened his belt, shucking his wet jeans before he tugged off his socks. He made his way to stand just inside the bathroom door, leaning up against the doorframe, as he listened to the Puerto Rican goddess in his shower singing.

_Take me to church_

_I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies_

_I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife_

_Offer me my deathless death_

_Good god, let me give you my life_

_Take me to church_

_I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your life_

_I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife_

_Offer me that deathless death_

_Good god, let me give you my life_

Phillip’s brows hiked up his forehead. Whatever the song was, it was deep. But it rang true for him, for Talia. She had never had a man love her like that. And it was about time that someone did. Phillip would be that man. Because, God help him, he’d kill any man that tried to lay a hand on her again.

While he knew that she deserved better – _so_ much better – than Phillip could ever offer her, he knew that he would try harder than any other man out there to do better for her, to do _right_ by her. He was working a regular, respectable, 9-5 job now. He was saving up money to buy them a little house somewhere, maybe not the best house on the block, but somewhere better than the shitty little trailer he currently lived in. He wanted her and Tuco to have the finer things in life, even if that meant he had to bust his balls to make it happen.

More than anything, he wanted that life with _her._ He wanted to make her _happy._ And he would start by worshipping her as she deserved to be, by showing her that she was _so_ much more than her ex had made her out to be. All her life, she had known abuse and insults. She had never known a gentle hand, not even from her own father. And Phillip knew what that was like, which is why he wanted better for her.

Shaking his head at himself for getting so sappy, Phillip reached down, shoving his boxer briefs down over his hips and letting them fall to the floor as he stalked across the bathroom floor towards the shower. He pulled the shower curtain back, nearly scaring its occupant half to death in the process. He couldn’t help but smile when Talia gasped loudly, one hand flying up to her chest and her eyes widening as she practically jumped right out of her own skin. She nearly busted her ass in the process – and she would have too, if Phillip hadn’t reached out one arm to wrap it around her waist and tug her right up against him to steady her.

Talia’s heart was racing as she gazed up at the man that had just saved her from busting her own ass in his shower, her dark, chocolate colored eyes wide as she braced her hands on his sides instinctively. Her brain had stopped functioning right about the time he had scared the living daylights right out of her, leaving her to simply blink up at him with her mouth hanging open. She floundered like a fish on dry land as she struggled to come up with something – _anything_ at all really – to say.

She saw those full, sensual lips curl up into a smug little smirk, that cocky, crooked one that always made her breath catch in her throat, as he stared down at her.

“Can I worship at your shrine?” he asked, tilting one dark brow at her as his grin turned downright wolfish.

He left no doubt in her mind that _his_ mind had skipped right over the shrines and the religion in the lyrics of the song she’d been singing and had gone _straight_ into the gutter. And _God_ she hoped it stayed there.

“You can worship anything you want,” she whispered a little breathlessly, “I… I would _love_ it if you’d worship my shrine.”

And now she felt like a fucking idiot. _Especially_ when she saw Phillip’s lips twitch as he fought back a smile. Her cheeks flamed, her eyes darting down to avoid his gaze, only to realize that that was one _hell_ of a mistake when her eyes landed on his slick, naked torso. Her eyes roamed down over every dip, every ridge, every line and curve and chiseled bit of muscle that was Phillip Kopus. God the man was sex incarnate. He was firm and toned and tanned to utter perfection. He was –

 _“Oh_ my God…!” she gasped, quickly averting her gaze when it landed on the erection he was starting to sport, the same one that was currently trapped between them as he held her against him.

That time, he _did_ laugh.

“Tal,” he told her, reaching up with his free hand to cradle her chin and lift her face so that she would meet his gaze, “I wouldn’t have stepped into the shower if I didn’t want you to look at me.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flaming all over again.

God, she probably looked like a damn tomato!

“I thought we could save some water. Shower with a friend,” he hinted, that crooked little Kopus smirk tugging at his lips again.

“I um… I would like that, yeah,” she said.

Smooth, Talia. _Real_ smooth.

“Good,” he told her, “Because I’m about to give you a reason to wash up again.”

“What?” she asked, her dark brows furrowing in confusion, “I don’t underst–,”

She trailed off into a gasp of surprise when his arm slipped from her waist and both of his hands found their way down to her ass, promptly hoisting her up off of the shower floor and perching her on his hips.

 _“Oh!”_ was the only word that slipped past her lips as she felt her back meet the cold tile wall of the shower, his hot, hard body keeping her pinned in place.

Her hands took on a life of their own, sliding up from his shoulders and past his neck to spear through his long, dark hair. He gazed up at her with those hazel eyes. _God_ how she loved those eyes! They were the color of cinnamon, so rich and warm and alert. Sometimes they almost looked amber, reminding her of the scrappy, lone wolf that he was, too moody and reserved to be accepted into any pack – and honestly, most of the time, she thought he preferred it that way. But right now, those amber eyes were staring back at her, his gaze intense, almost predatory as he gave her that wolfish grin that made her heart stop completely before it began to beat twice as fast.

“I wanna hear you scream my name before we’re done here,” he murmured in that deep, gravelly baritone.

Her cheeks flamed in a blush that even colored her neck and the top of her breasts.

“You’re so pretty when you blush,” he said, voicing his thoughts aloud as he slowly let his gaze rake down her body, “I wonder what else will blush when I make you cum for me…”

She’d never felt so naked, so exposed, so open before and, if she was honest, she was terrified. Hell, she was more scared right now than she’d ever been while facing her ex-husband’s brutality or the equally heavy hands of her father. And all because she knew that this man, this man that was holding her so closely, eyeing her so intently, possessed the one thing that her husband – nor _any_ other man – had ever had… her heart. When he had stolen it from her, she wasn’t sure. But she knew that he carried it with him, right there in those large, strong hands. And she knew that he could do more damage to her than any man before him had ever done – not her ex-husband, not her father, not any of the half-assed cops back in L.A. or the lawyers that had promised to get her away from her abusive ex-husband or her father before him. She knew that Phillip Kopus – and Phillip alone – could shatter her. There was no recovering from that. And that was something that, try as hard as she might, she just couldn’t run from.

Her thoughts came to a sudden and screeching halt when Kopus’s lips crashed down on hers, stealing both the words and thoughts from her. All that she could do was surrender to him with a muffled little cry of surprise against his slightly chapped but warm lips, the same lips that she always caught him nibbling at – which really drove her mad, if she was honest, because all it made her want to do was yank his head down so that she could nibble at them herself. Those lips were so full, so sensual, so inviting and intoxicating as he parted his slightly to press them more firmly against hers. Her fingers tightened reflexively in his hair, a moan slipping past her own lips and into his mouth. She arched her body against his, her soft breasts pressing against the firm expanse of his broad chest. Her nipples tingled as she felt as much as heard the deep, rumbling growl he emitted for her. This coaxed a rather embarrassing whimper from Talia as she locked her legs around his waist, crossing them at the ankles to trap him against her and squeezing him with her thighs.

Phillip was lost to the woman in his arms, his hands cupping her ass and squeezing the generous cheeks firmly as he captured her bottom lip between his teeth and dealt her a sharp little nip. Talia moaned, tipping her head back against the wall of the shower as she came up for air. Her fingers were sifted through the thick, wet strands of his long, dark hair, curling into surprisingly strong little fists. But Phillip welcomed the pain, right along with the pleasure, groaning as he moved his mouth down the column of her throat. His lips paused here or there, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lap the water and sweat from her skin, his teeth raking lightly over her racing pulse as it thrummed wildly just beneath her skin.

Lost. That was the only word he could think of to describe how he felt. Lost and intoxicated and addicted, _definitely_ addicted. He was addicted to the sound of the little gasps and strained moans that slipped past her lips as she did her damnedest to keep quiet. He was addicted to the soft, smooth texture of her skin beneath his lips, the taste of her sweat as it mingled with the water cascading down over them in the shower. He was addicted to the way she arched against him, pressing the ample globes of her breasts against him, and rolled her hips against his stomach. He was addicted to the way she squeezed him with those soft but surprisingly strong thighs, holding him trapped tightly against her. He was addicted to the taste of her lips and her tongue, like hot chocolate and mint. He was addicted to the scent of her shower gel, like lavender and honey. The woman was a fucking goddess, taking over all of his senses and threatening to steal his sanity.

He used his hips to hold her in place against the wall, letting his hands slowly slide up the curve of her spine, the rough, calloused pads of his fingertips trailing over this scar and that one, taking in the damage that she had taken from one man or another in her past, a testament of just how strong, how unshakeable this woman was. He brought one hand up into the raven colored curls that fell down to her shoulders, his fingers fisting in the soft, wet strands as his other hand skated back down, trailing over her hip and along her thigh. He got a firm grasp on her thigh and eased it further apart from her other one, situating himself properly between her hips and stealing a quick peek down between them to ensure that he was lined up just right at her entrance.

His hazel eyes found hers then, searching, questioning, as he looked for any hint of hesitation from his little Puerto Rican goddess.

“Please…” she implored, her voice just barely above a whisper.

And that was all he needed.

Talia’s head fell back, a long, sharp moan escaping her as she felt him slide in slowly. While she was glad that he was being gentle, that he was thinking of her in this moment and trying to ease her into it, the slow slide and the gradual push, the undeniable stretch as her walls expanded to adjust to his incredible girth, was maddening. So much so that her hands grasped tightly to his shoulder blades, her nails piercing his skin as her thighs trembled from the effort of not only keeping herself still but also pushing her body to the limit to ensure that she accepted him inside of her.

The last time she had had a man inside of her, she had conceived her son. So, to say that she was both sensitive and a little on edge was _quite_ the understatement. The stretch was painful, but not unbearably so. If she was honest, it was the first time she had actually and openly _welcomed_ pain, a strained whine escaping her as she dug her nails into his skin deeper and used the heels of her feet to press against his firm glutes. Her nails raked down his back, her hips arching as she sank her teeth into her bottom lip, her dark eyes fluttering open to peer down at the man that was now buried to the hilt inside of her.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded her head, but Kopus wasn’t having it.

“Tal,” he prompted, “Talk to me, sweetheart. I don’t wanna hurt you. If you want me to stop, I will.”

“No!” she was quick to protest, shaking her head hard, “I’m fine. I promise. Just… It’s been a really long time.”

His dark brows furrowed and he questioned, “How long?”

“Like… just over two years…” she replied, her cheeks growing hot as she blushed a bright shade of pink.

 _“Christ,_ woman!” he cursed, his brows hiking up his forehead.

Her ex hadn’t wanted to touch her while she was pregnant, stating that he thought she looked like a “fat cow”.

“Kope…” she said, though it sounded more like a question, even to her own ears.

“Yeah?” he inquired.

“I need you to move,” she told him, “Or I’m gonna be certifiable in like 2.5. The choice is yours.”

He chuckled at that and the rumbling laughter did the most _delicious_ things to her body, causing his chest – among other things – to vibrate against her – and _inside_ of her. She cried out then, her head meeting the wall of the shower and her hips bucking against his as she dragged her nails down his spine. Kopus _growled_ then, his fingers digging into her thigh and tugging lightly at her hair as he brought his mouth down to her throat to tease her sensitive skin with his teeth.

“Fuck!” she cursed, “Please!”

“Oh, I plan on it, honey,” he grumbled back, his lips and teeth working marks into her skin even as his beard prickled against her tender skin.

She didn’t wait for him to take the hint, rocking her hips as she set her own pace, embarrassingly loud whines and whimpers escaping her as she used his body, seeking the pleasure that she had been denied for so long. Hell, even when she and her ex-husband had actually gotten intimate, it was never anything to brag about, nothing noteworthy. But Phillip. God, Phillip Kopus was a fucking work of art. He used _every_ inch of that 6’5”, 270-pound body to bring her pleasure, to reveal to her sensations that she had never experienced before him. He was like a dream, one that she never wanted to wake up from.

Phillip groaned against her shoulder, his hands full of her as he rocked his hips up into hers, one fisted in her hair and the other holding her underneath her thigh to keep her tethered to him. He panted against her wet skin, grunting as he felt her tight walls welcoming him back inside of her. God, she was so fucking wet, so hot, so _tight._ He’d never known anything like it. Good things didn’t happen to Phillip Kopus. Luck had never been on his side, had never been in his corner. But this, this was by far the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. And he _sure_ as hell wasn’t going to be forgetting it any time soon.

He stole a glance down, watching as he slowly pulled out of her until just the head of his cock was resting inside of her. Then he pushed back in, arching his hips and changing the angle until he was pressed right up against her, his pubic bone rubbing against her clit and the head of his dick tapping against her cervix. The woman in his arms went wild, a shudder rippling down her spine and one of her hands tugging at his hair even as the other raked her nails down his spine. She whined for him, sounding more like a feral cat than a woman, all nails and yowls and mewls of pleasure as she pressed her lips against any part of his skin that she could reach. She whispered against his heated skin, begging for more, and he was _more_ than happy to give it.

He stole a quick peek back up at her, discovering that she had her bottom lip tucked firmly between her teeth as she watched him with those dark eyes. Her pupils were blown wide, sweat dripping down her skin and mingling with the water that was dripping down between her breasts, and Phillip found it hard to breathe. God she was fucking perfect, so kind and sweet and selfless. And she was giving herself to him, baring herself for him to see, for him to take her in this moment. And he’d be _damned_ if he fucked it up. So, he crushed his lips to hers, tightening his grip on her and pressing his body against hers until not even a hair’s breadth separated them.

He only pulled back when his lungs were screaming for air, burying his face in her neck to breathe her in deep as he continued to thrust his hips up into her, driving her further up the shower wall. She was getting louder, voicing those sharp whines right into his ear as she clawed at his shoulders, struggling to keep her grip on him, between the sweat and the water that coursed down his back. She gripped him with her thighs, goading him on with the heels of her feet against his ass. He landed a particularly hard thrust that had her throwing her head back and screaming out into the shower, the sound echoing around the small, steamy bathroom.

“Please!” she begged, her thighs trembling around his hips, her nails piercing his skin as he felt her inner walls start to flutter in anticipation around him.

“Shh…” he murmured into her ear in that deep, gravelly baritone, “I’ve got you, Tal. Don’t you worry, baby. I’m gonna get you there.”

He angled his hips once more, this time to ensure that his pelvis ground into her clit with every sharp thrust of his powerful hips. The new position had her practically wailing, her head thrashing from side to side against the shower wall as she used her calves to shove him right up against her, trapping him firmly in place as she did, indeed, lose her fucking mind.

“That’s it…” he praised, “Cum for me, Tal. I want you to cum all over my fucking cock. Soak me in it, baby.”

And she did. In fact, she came so fucking hard she couldn’t even breathe, a silent scream escaping her as her whole body convulsed around him, every muscle tightening and loosening as the pleasure rolled over in her waves so strong they threatened to drown her. She gasped for air when she finally remembered she needed oxygen to breathe, tipping her head back against the shower wall and dragging in great gulps of the hot, humid air that surrounded them there in the shower.

Her whole body was limp. She felt like she weighed 1,000 pounds, like her limbs were made of concrete. No. Not even that. She felt like one big pile of Talia-sized Jell-O. And when she finally mustered up the strength to move, all she could do was gaze down at Kopus in wonder, her dark, chocolate colored eyes taking him in as he a huge, shit-eating grin stretched clear across his handsome face.

“Well…” he said, “That’s gotta be a chart-topper.”

“You have no fucking idea,” she sighed, leaning down to rest her head against his shoulder.

“Don’t you go to sleep on me,” he told her, “I’m not done with you yet.”

She jerked her head up at that, her eyes wide as she stared down at him.

Not done with her yet? Jesus Christ! The man was going to kill her!

But he just smirked up at her, that cocky, crooked little Kopus smirk, and slid his hands along her hot, slick body until he could find the ample curves of her ass, one arm slipping underneath it to hold her up as he pulled her away from the wall and turned the water off there in the shower. Then he was turning to pull the shower curtain back and carrying her out of the bathroom and into his bedroom.

He crawled onto the bed before laying her out on it, resting his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her beneath him.

All she could do was blink back up at him. God, the man was fucking gorgeous.

“If you taste even _half_ as good as you look and smell, I’m gonna _really_ enjoy this…” Phillip practically purred as he eased back from her, his amber eyes slowly skimming down the length of her body until they came to a stop at the apex of her thighs.

“You really don’t have to –,” she started to protest, prompting him to look back up at her with furrowed brows.

She was blushing a bright shade of pink, her eyes darting anywhere but to his, and he couldn’t help but get the sense that this was something that made her a little uncomfortable.

“Tal…?” he asked.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying at it with her teeth, but, still, she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Talia, look at me,” he demanded.

Finally, ever-so-slowly, she turned her head to meet his gaze.

“I… I don’t expect that of you,” she told him, her voice just barely above a whisper.

“I know you don’t,” he told her, “I want to do this for you. I want to make you feel good, make your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head. What’s wrong with that?”

She was silent.

“Tal, has someone done this to you before?” he questioned, his voice soft in the hopes that he wasn’t stepping on any toes here, “Was it not a good experience for you?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “My ex never wanted to. He said… He said it was gross.”

Phillip scoffed at that, shaking his head, and was quick to assure her, “It’s not fucking gross. He just didn’t want to do it. Sure, if the woman doesn’t clean herself regularly, it might be gross or smell… funky. But you take a shower _every_ fucking day and you groom yourself down there – which, if I’m honest, and _please_ don’t take this the wrong way, I would love for you to grow your hair back out down there. At least a little landing strip.”

Her brows hiked up her forehead and Phillip was quick to add, “What I’m trying to say is, you keep yourself all neat and clean down there. That’s the _only_ kind of pussy I like to eat. And, quite frankly, _yours_ is the only pussy I _want_ to eat.”

Her cheeks flamed at that and she murmured a quiet, “Thank you… I think?”

He nodded to her, insisting, “Tal, you’re a fucking _dream._ You’re perfect in every fucking way. And for a man to not want to worship you like you _should_ be? That’s a fucking shame.”

She turned her head away from him, her gaze meeting the carpet there on the floor.

“Tal, baby,” he explained, “I’m not offering to do this for you because I feel like I _have_ to. I’m offering to do it because I genuinely _want_ to. Will you let me?”

She hesitated, but only for a moment, before she finally turned back to face him and gave a little nod, giving her consent.

“If you don’t like it, we can stop,” he told her, _“Any_ time you wanna stop, you just tell me. Okay?”

She nodded once more.

“Okay,” he said.

He reached down then, finding her knees and slowly parting them to let his hands slide up the inside of her thighs. His dark brows furrowed and he was quick to glance down when his large hands met the scars there, etched all the way up the inside of her thighs. Little Xs were carved into her olive skin, some older than others, some more jagged, but all of the scars bearing proof of the deep wounds that marked both her body and her soul.

“Tal…?” he asked, peering up at her.

She wouldn’t meet his gaze, her cheeks ablaze and tears shining in her eyes.

“Baby, did you do this?” he questioned.

“God no!” she cried, jerking her head around to glare down at him, as if she couldn’t believe that he would think that of her.

“Oh, honey,” he said, the rest of the words escaping him as a lump formed in his throat and he had to swallow it down.

He pushed himself up onto his knees, leaning over her to gently brush the tears from her eyes, pressing kisses all over her face – her cheeks, her closed eyelids, her forehead, her lips, even the tip of her nose.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he murmured, “And if I ever find that fucking bastard, I’m gonna fucking kill him. I promise you this: _no_ man is ever going to raise his hand to you again. Do you understand me?”

She turned her head away from him, another wave of tears escaping her eyes, which she kept squeezed shut tight.

“You might not believe me now,” he vowed, “But no man is ever gonna touch you again. I’ll make _damn_ sure of it.”

She nodded, but he could tell that she didn’t believe him. And, right then and there, Phillip made it his mission to prove it to her, even if he had to spend every day of the rest of his life working to prove it to her. It was worth it. _She_ was worth it.

Phillip hunched over her, bringing his lips to hers once more, kissing her slowly, letting his tongue tangle with hers until he felt her practically melt beneath him, her muscles slowly relaxing until she was pliant underneath his large frame.

When he finally pulled back, he smiled down at her, then started pressing his lips down her body, branding her with hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses from the corner of her jaw, down her neck, to the hollow where it met her shoulder. He trailed his tongue over the ridge of her collarbone, then flicked it down the valley between her breasts, clear on down to her navel. He nipped her just above it, catching her by surprise and prompting a giggle from her as she peered down at him with those pretty, dark, doe eyes. Then he was moving on, heading even further south.

Phillip peered up at her when he felt her start to grow tense beneath his large hands, which were pressed to her hips.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he reminded her, “You’re in control here. No questions asked.”

She gave a nod and he continued, laving his tongue over first one of her hip bones, and then the other. He nibbled over the rise of her hip, teasing her with his lips and teeth, then pressed kisses along the line where she had had her c-section to deliver Tuco.

He peered up at her, finding that her cheeks were flaming, and he shook his head, assuring her, “Doesn’t make you look any less attractive, Tal. Neither does the extra weight around the hips or your stomach. I know you worry about it, don’t tell me you don’t, but I like my woman with a little meat on her bones. I don’t have to worry about breaking her.”

He winked at that, giving her one of those crooked little Kopus smirks that only Phillip Kopus could pull off and he saw her lips start to curl up into a smile.

“That’s better,” he told her, dipping his head back down, nuzzling his nose along her bare mound.

He wasn’t lying when he’d told her he wished she’d grow a little hair back for him. While some men liked their women clean-shaven, Phillip wasn’t one of them. He wanted his woman natural, comfortable in her own skin. He wanted a soft place to land. And he _sure_ as shit wasn’t the kind to shave himself for a woman. So, he didn’t expect Talia to shave for him.

He nuzzled his way up the inside of first one of her thighs, then the other, pressing kisses to each and every scar that marked her beautiful body. Then, _finally_ he arrived at his destination.

Talia was writhing in anticipation, the suspense nearly killing her as she fisted her fingers in the comforter and shuffled her feet over the soft material beneath her. She whimpered, quickly catching his attention, and he peered up at her with those amber eyes dark, his nostrils flaring as he breathed her in. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth to avoid begging him. While she hadn’t initially been a big fan of the idea, now she was curious. If his mouth felt as good on her there as it did the rest of her body, she was in for one _hell_ of a ride.

And she _certainly_ wasn’t disappointed.

From the _second_ his mouth landed on her heated flesh, Talia was lost. Her fingers fisting in the comforter and her toes curling into the soft material beneath her as a surprised gasp tore from her throat. He took his time warming her up to it, lightly tracing her lips with his tongue and nibbling gently along her lips before he finally delved his tongue between them, working long, slow passes over her moistening slit. With every pass of his tongue, she felt herself growing wetter for him, and the low groans and growls that he voiced against her, sending the most _delicious_ tingling sensations zipping down her spine, only fueled that fire inside of her further.

He licked and lapped at her, not wanting to waste a single drop, and the way that the tip of his nose brushed against her clit had her seeing stars dancing behind her closed eyelids. She squirmed beneath him, biting her lip hard in an effort to keep quiet. But it was no use. She moaned despite her best efforts, the sounds loud and embarrassingly high-pitched, bordering on a whimper.

She felt his large hands grasping at her thighs, trying to keep her still as he held her pinned to the bed, and that only excited her further, feeling his strength and knowing that he was being gentle with her, despite possessing that much strength.

His desire for her was raw, primal, as were the sounds that spilled from his lips as he devoured her, moving his mouth up to capture her clit between his lips and suckling greedily at it, flicking his tongue over it in quick, harsh movements that had her screaming out. Her feet scrambled over the bed and her fingers clawed at the sheets beneath her, which were now exposed since she had managed to muss the comforter up. If he wasn’t careful, mussed sheets were going to be the _least_ of his problems.

Phillip moved his mouth back down, plunging his tongue inside of her, and was rewarded with a high, keening wail. Her fingers flew from the sheets to his hair then, desperate to keep him rooted in place. But he had no intentions of going anywhere. He was _right_ where he wanted to be, with his tongue buried inside of her, his nose nudging at her clit, as he drank her down. He grew ravenous once he got his first real taste of her, growling and delving his tongue back inside of her to lap up the juices that poured freely from her, the desire that _he_ had coaxed from her. His grip on her thighs tightened, his fingers digging into her tender flesh until he was afraid that he might leave bruises on her.

Phillip groaned, eating her with an intensity he hadn’t even known he possessed, a hunger that was so primal, so raw, that it could only be described as insatiable. He slid his hands down the insides of her thighs and around until he could grasp the back of her thighs, lifting them up to drape them over his broad shoulders and opening her even further to him. But he knew his time with her was nearly finished, if the trembling in her thighs and the way she rocked her hips against his face was any indication. He groaned, easing his tongue out of her hot, wet depths to latch his mouth onto her clit once more, working his tongue over it in quick succession as he tried desperately to bring her to that peak.

And it didn’t take long. With one… two… three more flicks of his tongue, she was flying high, screaming out and tugging at his hair as her thighs clamped down on either side of his head, her hips bucking and her sweet cream flooding his eager mouth. He licked her clean, lapping up every drop, despite her hips jerking and her whimpering at her growing sensitivity. Once he was sure that she was clean, he moved up the bed, lying down beside her and pulling her in close, trapping her against his massive frame. He pressed a kiss to her temple, feeling her heart race against his chest, and smiled to himself.

Her limbs were still limp, and she didn’t even try to move. He took that as a compliment, a testament to the thorough job he’d done at pleasing her.

“But what about you?” she asked.

Phillip chuckled.

“Doesn’t matter,” he told her, “I can get mine later.”

“But that’s not fair,” she protested, tilting her head back to peer up at him then, a pout curling at her full lips.

He couldn’t help it. He leaned down to capture her bottom lip between his teeth then, nipping at it, and eased back to study her for a moment, grinning at the shocked look on her face.

“Tal, it’s fine, really,” he insisted, “You can get even with me later. I’m not keeping score.”

“I’m calling bullshit on that one,” she challenged him, _“Every_ man keeps score.”

“Well not this one,” he informed her.

She peered up at him, those dark eyes studying him for a moment, before finally tucking her face into the broad expanse of his chest and curling her arms up between them. Phillip grabbed the comforter, yanking at it until it fell over them to cover them both. The sweat still lingered on their bodies and the last thing he needed was her catching a cold.

“You sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he promised, the last thing she heard before she drifted off to sleep.

And he was.

** Lyrics from the Song: **

_Take Me to Church_ by Hozier


End file.
